


To visit an Athenian

by LindaMaceMichalik



Series: Going to the mountain [1]
Category: Alexander (2004), Alexander Trilogy - Mary Renault
Genre: Gen, Post Funeral Games AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 03:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17439350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindaMaceMichalik/pseuds/LindaMaceMichalik
Summary: What if Hephaestion, instead of being reconciled to Alexander after he shamed Hephaestion in public over the latter's arguments with Eumenes, asked and was allowed to return to Greece?309BC -15 years after Hephaestion did not die at Ecbatana.------Not sure how this works as this is my first post to this site having thoroughly enjoyed the Alexander and Charioteer stories here.   I would love it if someone would pick up the story where I stop.  I will have a go at writing a sequel, but this is my first story so it might not work :-)! LPt2 is at https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452367





	To visit an Athenian

Ptolemy leaned back into the couch and fingered the tasselled gold embroidered throw, just part of his host's tastefully appointed andronitis. Not vulgar wealth, but power understated and beautifully told. 

Phaestion had always had an eye for beauty - probably gained from looking in to his own bronze shaving mirror. Ah, if he’d been a girl instead of a youth - Ptolemy would have lost his head to the lad. Cleitus had; gods - what if he'd acted? Maybe Eros was there with Dionysius when Alexander speared Cleitus at Samarkand? But no... 

Just as well Ptolemy had let him be, Alexander had been jealous of his friendship from the day they’d met in Mieza, and once they’d publicly avowed their love at the tomb of their heroes, Achilles and Patroclus on the plains of ruined Illium - well then, nothing could have separated them! Or so Ptolemy would have wagered. But that was before the endless war marches and the separations across Bactria, Sogdiana, along the Indus and before the accumulations of wives and countries... and before Bagoas. Not to forget Hephaestion's pride, no never to forget that.

"More wine my Lord?" The blonde ephebe slid off the foot of the couch where he'd been curled beside his erastes and held out a pitcher to Ptolemy's cup. A true Ganymede and he Zeus for a second! He blinked - the ghost of an eagle in the shadows.

"Thank you, yes...?" He searched for a name,  
"Xander, sir!" 

Ah yes, Alexander. Not his given name then, Hephaestion would have insisted on the name change when he'd approached the lad's parents? And who would have refused such an influential Athenian the care of their son, despite the irregular age difference? He'd heard through a mutual friend that Hephaestion had been through a succession of 'Alexanders'. That same thespian had brokered Ptolemy's visit; no problem for Thettalos to travel between Babylon and Egyptian Alexandria, no suspicion raised if he should visit an old friend, a rich patron of the arts, on returning to his home in Athens. Actors were the protected children of Dionysius, always welcome, sometimes willing; did Thettalos still love Alexander?

Hephaestion stirred, drawing his gaze back from the flames of the candelabra to settle on his guest's eyes. 

Ah, thought Ptolemy, would this long-haired Argive never age? His chestnut hair glinted, his face held so many fewer scars than Ptolemy’s; than Him whose golden hair had paled to ash. Ptolemy fingered the indent along his left jaw line, gained on the Arab campaign, the one without Hephaestion. 

It had been a short expedition by His standards - Alexander's heart had gone out of it. The logistics had been thorough. Hephaestion had planned most of the overland supplies as his parting gift, after the acrimony and Alexander’s public denunciation of both Phaestion and Eumenes. 

Always one to give, how could Alexander have denied his friend’s request to quit court and return to Greece? How could he have denied his other Alexander the right to his pride?

To be fair to the lad, Hephaestion had worked hard on the landward logistics and worked closely with Nearchus on the seaboard provisioning. They had all learnt their lesson from the Gedrosian desert march. When he bypassed the games and celebrations at Ecbatana and went straight to Babylon, ahead of Alexander, to start the planning, Alexander had known then.

It had been a campaign sufficient to secure one more land to the Hellenic empire of Megas Alexandros, enough to ensure a chain of harbours for the new coastal trade route, a fortified sea route to supplement the land route to His lands in Egypt, the satrapy he’d bestowed on his blood brother, Ptolemy.

"So, how is the Great King?" he asked, pushing up the sleeve on his Persian robe.  
You were Philoalexandros, not Philobasilikos! Ptolemy flared and subsided.

"I hear he thrives, Phaestion. His last letter was full of plans to reform the city services in Babylon and build a new temple to Ahura Mazda..."

"You hear?"  
An arched brow, ah like yesterday, years forsaken!

"When did you last see him? Surely with such a secured province and excellent routes you can afford to visit him regularly?"  
He has crows’ feet and straight lips, ageing in his question. 

"I was pleased for Him when I heard of the conquest of Arabia."  
By the gods, that was over ten years ago! Do they truly never write to each other?

"And how many Alexandrias has he established there?"  
Hephaestion was being 'polite' to him! This campaign friend, foe, this fellow pupil of Socrates was being polite!

" Three, along the coast, and one inland on a good river. But what of your family?"

"My mother and wife attend temple tonight and my sons should be abed. I cannot vouch for Darius, my oldest lad - fifteen is an age to trouble a father's patience - so many suitors already!" His face lit up with a slight, proud smile. 

If Darius took after Drypetis as well as her husband, then yes, Ptolemy would expect many eager young men hovered around Darius son of Hephaestion.

"And you Ptolemy, your family, your wives?"  
Ptolemy drew breath. You want to ask about His family, he thought.

"Ah a few wives, a few children - in a city such as Alexandria we do well. But Phaestion, you should visit! Come for the library, it's a wonder of the world! Truth to be told it's my own campaign now He no longer bids us cleave a way to the Endless Ocean."

A pause, cups turning in the flickering light, the Ganymede pouring wine, sliding back onto the couch close in to his lover. Hepahestion softly brushing the hair back off his beloved’s brow.

"Hmm, a journey abroad? I think not, I overspent my portion of the luck needed to travel on His campaigns. No I will not tempt the gods. Besides... “  
Such a smile!

“.. one only has to remain in Athens and the world comes to you!"  
What a soul shining out those eyes. How could He have borne to release you from your vows?

"So you've never thought to travel to Persia with Drypetis so she can show your sons to her family? Is she never homesick?"

Hephaestion looked perplexed and seemed to consider, for the first time, this omission in his husbandly duties. Considered it and set it aside.

"Persian herbs, Ptolemy, court intrigues - she is of the royal blood after all. No, me and mine are safer here in Athens... even here I have a slave to test food and drink... when tensions ride high."

Nothing for it then! Say what he'd been sent across land and sea to ask.  
"And you Hephaestion, would you never visit Babylon - on your own?"  
A quiet in drawn breath. Pain smothered as it arises.

"aye.. go back?" He muses, rolling it in his mouth like a sweetmeat to savour.  
His shoulders settle firmly, he smiles - in breath, out breath.

"No need I'd say - wouldn't you agree, Ptolemy?"  
Not an invitation to contend, a closure on the matter.

“You and He are not what you were. Surely time and distance lends a balm Hephaestion?  
What price pride if one of you dies without reconciliation?”

“None is needed Ptolemy. All that was needed was spoken fifteen years since. Me and mine thrive under the enlightened rule of our Great King. Greece is honoured to have birthed this Hellene Empire. Blessed Alexander III of living memory! I played my part and left the stage. It is done.”

“And what of the man Hephaestion, the boy?”  
Again that smile, sad.

“I have my Alexanders still.”  
Adoring epheban eyes look up into their erastes’ eyes as Phaestion ruffles Xander's golden hair.

“It is enough Ptolemy. I was not made to walk with the gods. Semele was turned to ash when she insisted Zeus come to her in his full glory. I understand He insists on his godhead? He has an empire of people and a world of supplicants. I have my small kingdom and those I love. Please, as my guest friend, let’s not talk of this anymore. What’s done is done. As Heraclitus said, one cannot step into the same river twice.”

If he smiles enough will he ever convince himself that he believes in what he’s saying? 

 

Ptolemy gazed out into the night, the candles sputtered, a breeze was getting up.

"But what am I thinking? Such a long journey! Xander, will you show our honoured guest back to his rooms, please? Ptolemy, your slaves are there already, an extra bed has been set for your friend the musician, whenever he arrives. I wish you a good night, till the morning!"

Left on his own, Hephaestion stared into the fire turning the embers in his heart.

The ash blonde man outside the window leaned into the wall, raking through his own cold hearth.  
After all he’d overheard, should he go find an inn? But no, whatever else, he had never turned away from the truth nor from a battle. 

He stepped into the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Andronitis = the equivalent to a lounge, the men's meeting room in an ancient Greek home  
> Pederasty/erastes/eromenos= socially formalised homoerotic relationship between older male lover/younger beloved youth


End file.
